Posted by Raul on July 2, 2011
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Butterflies that paint the world in beautiful colors.
Butterflies that change reality into a dream world.
Butterflies that tell lies instead of reality.
Butterflies that carelessly fly without aim.
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Where are you!
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I’ve seen a butterfly dancing in the air in front of me.
I tried, but I cannot touch it.
Sweet movements in the canvas of reality.
Bitter feelings of cross worlds.
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Logic against the so many times mentioned freaking guts.
Standing in the cold, sweating the heat of summer.
So many lists, so many thoughts.
Paralyzed by dull materials that conform reality.
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Sweet, beautiful butterfly that creates neon lights in the air with unsought movements or premeditated intentions, yet exists and calls for a revolution.
And the sun and the moon keep turning and turning!
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I know, I’m screwed! 
Raul
Posted by Raul on May 31, 2011
I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for my wife who was coming from I don’t remember where.
The old woman came to me. She was short and clearly overweight; wearing plenty of make-up and a short dress that attempted to make her look sexy, yet the intention wasn’t achieved.
“Do you want some action?” She said to me, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize what the proposal was.
“I’m waiting for my wife”
“But in the meantime…we can go there” She pointed to an old house around the corner. There were several women like her, some in a window, others standing in the street, waving hands to males passing by.
“She is pregnant; I have to be here to help her”
“How long is she pregnant?”
“Six months”
“So you have been without a woman for a while”
“I’ll wait for her” I tried to give her my best smile.
She looked at me for a moment without saying another word. There was strangeness in her eyes, and I believe some sadness in her face.
She looked at me for a while without saying another word, then, with sad eyes and a very low voice tone she said: “Don’t go there, they might rob you” pointing to the other women; and without another word she turned around and left, walking in a slow pace in the direction of the old house.
Sadness came to me at that moment, feeling for maybe loneliness in that old woman, working the days for some money. I have never been able to forget those sad eyes and the tired walk of a woman that seemed to find herself in the wrong place of life.
Raul
Posted by Raul on March 31, 2011
They used to be all around, flying aimlessly, close to each other, silently existing for no reason at all. They were there, creating that strange feeling that seems to be proper of just once in a lifetime.
Sounds of a voice, a gesture, maybe a silly look of stranger eyes that were to be known little by little as time went by; they were born out of those and remained there for a short lived life.
So colorful! So vibrant! So alive! Butterflies that changed the elements around, the organization of things, the perception of life; just to leave behind spider webs as a memorial reminder of what used to be, and that now concentrate in catching the dust of time.
Their brief life reminding us all of the fragility of a moment in time: Dead Butterflies!
Raul
(Projections)
Posted by Raul on March 8, 2011
And then the old syndrome of: “Someday I’ll be able to stop saying someday”, just to drag life on another year. Who will subscribe?
“Spring is coming! Spring is coming!” -The inner voice raced across the city with the news.
The frozen lake is no more…instead seagulls feed at will with madness, flying all over the place.
Some say life is like a roll of toilet paper…the closer to the end, the faster it goes.
Some say life is like a cigarette…a pleasure at the beginning but stinky at the end (and only a bad smell left…Yikes!).
Some say life is like getting drunk…laughing and dancing with abandon at first, to end up unable to stand and walk by the end…Aw!
New technologies = easier life…incommunicado!
Facing the unknown from the comfort of an internet terminal at home equals little experience in facing life for the growing child. The art of physical interaction become lost.
Nowadays, and for more and more people, the number of minutes used on the cell phone seems to be inversely proportional to the amount of company felt.
A mirror shows just the machine, but not the driver.
Getting lost in the requirements of survival and their luxury extensions, that brings enhanced pleasures to the instincts. Starving souls leaving the physical plane?
All the spirits gather in the ether and conform the thinking and deciding entity that controls the cosmos…God is a Union!
Thinking in a bi-dimensional plane there are only two options to the problem. In a tri-dimensional plane there are six. (At least it becomes an “intelligent” confusion!)
I guess I’ve spent too much time without writing, and the thoughts fly around like small, winged demons, making fun of the driver!
Raul
Posted by Raul on January 6, 2011
Standing here in the cold, getting so much snow, freezing! I can’t wait to go again, move, go somewhere and do something! Get this cold feeling out of me while running around.
I wish I had a home like some other lucky ones that have a roof to spend the winter; a roof to protect myself from this blowing snow and wind that always get the best of me. Summer is fine and even that the sun can be really harsh sometimes at least doesn’t get me paralyzed like cold does.
There are times when I get myself lost in my memories of the times when I was young and stronger. Those times when I used to shine in the presence of others, older than me, and thinking that the whole world was waiting for me to see. Those younger years, how wonderful times!
Now I’m old and don’t get much attention and I know, they are mostly waiting for me to die and then get rid of me once and for all. How easily they forget! How many times they needed me and were dependant on me.
I am deteriorating, I know; maybe another winter, maybe not. Everything inside me is dying, I can feel it! Then I’ll be gone.
The kids, I remember, they were so happy to spend time with me, now they have grown and gone; they have their lives, kids of their own.
So what is the meaning of life? To be used when needed and discarded when old? Forgotten, like an old blanket worn out by time. And what is so special about me? Would someone be interested in me at this advanced age? Wanting to take care and make me young and strong again? Would I get to be loved again for who I am and not for what I can do for others? Am I so special for someone to say “don’t let him die”?
I guess is the way things are for an old family car like me!
Raul
(The actual owner of the car)
P.S. Old, battered car for sale!
